


Baleful Stars

by soulless_puppy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, High Fantasy, M/M, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-16 00:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14152659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_puppy/pseuds/soulless_puppy
Summary: Dean walks in the deeper forest because his brother’s spirit resides there.





	Baleful Stars

The forest is calm. Light filters through the trees with gentle warmth. The detritus is wet and soft and the ground beneath is old and solid. The foundation of the forest is eternal, or at least it seems so. Dean doesn’t have faith in much anymore, but somehow he still believe that.

His mother says the deeper forest is mystic and sorrowful. His father only speaks of danger. Dean walks there anyway. 

* * *

No one knows how much guilt Dean carries, because no one talks about Sam anymore. When there is a body to burn and bury, when there are rites to be said and sigil stones to be placed in memorial, people talk about the dead. They find peace in their mourning. At least, that is what Singer says.

But they never found Sam’s body. Mourning him is never finished. There is no peace to be had.

* * *

Dean walks in the deeper forest because his brother’s spirit resides there. The forest took Sam into her bosom and hid him away. His body fed the foxes and the ravens, if Hell’s servants did not defile it. His bones will feed the trees for a long time. His spirit will never rest.

Dean searches the forest for his brother’s bones, but he longs to see his soul too. There would be justice in finding either, he is certain. To lay Sam’s bones to rest would allow him to seek absolution. To meet his spirit would be a just and painful death.

Most days, he hopes for the latter. He would be banished from peace and cursed to wander the forest forever, but he would be with Sam, and Sam would no longer be alone.

* * *

Sam wanted to make a sachet for Jessica. He was sweet on her with the kind of puppy love remembered with fondness as years pass, even if it is unrequited. He wanted to make her a spell to assist her studies and he couldn’t let go of the notion once it was in his head. He studied his mother’s lore collection with careful attention after each day’s chores. More than once, he was scolded for dozing off with the book in his lap and a candle burning at his elbow.

Dean was too occupied with his training and early excursions with the hunters to give Sam’s fixation much thought. Then Sam insisted his spell needed baleful stars because of their potency. Suddenly he had Dean’s attention. Dean suspected his brother only wanted such rare flowers to prove his affection through the effort of finding them. But retrieving them was too dangerous and buying them from any trader would be impossible.

Both their parents forbade the journey with stern instruction. Baleful stars only grew in the deepest gloom, where the sun could not hold Hell’s servants at bay. Only hunters and witches walked there, and despite Sam’s fascination with the Old Lore and it’s uses, he was yet a boy with no mastery. His potential was great, but their father would not consider training him until at least three more summers had past.

But Sam was always stubborn. He was always sly. He carried too much confidence in his abilities and pride in his accomplishments. Dean knew all of that as much as anything. He knew his brother better than anyone.

There was no excuse for how he let Sam slip away.

* * *

 

When Dean leaves the sunlight’s protection, he feels it. A cold shiver runs down his spine and prickles over his skin. He touches the brand on his chest and whispers a prayer. He does this because it is the custom, but he has no faith. Sam’s brand was still pink and newly healed when he was lost, but it did him no good.

Dean strikes out west this time, intent on picking up where he left off, several miles into the deeper wood. He’ll search the forest floor for hours and then take another way home to cover more fresh ground before he runs out of daylight.

His search is always fruitless, but it is his burden. When he is not guarding their homes with the hunters or tending to his mother’s crops, he finds his way into the deeper woods. He encountered Hell’s servants many times but none have felled him. For nine summers, he has searched for his brother and hoped to be lost in the endless gloom. He continues to find his way home.

* * *

The fire-haired witch is a foreigner, but she has never felt more at home. The very earth thrums with the magic of the deeper forest. She feels it even when she sleeps.

Olivette laughed and said the ghouls would pick her bones clean. Well, Olivette can eat her own grimoire. Before winter, Rowena will be powerful again. Rowena will be the most powerful of them all, and the coven will beg her for her forgiveness.

She kneels at her hearth to scry and a raven takes her vision high above the trees. She guides the flight south over the villages and the farmlands, and then east along the river. She spots many of the hunters, but they are only training like fools or working their homesteads. She turns north with the river and follows it up into the deeper forest. A demon on the shore looks up at the raven with disgust. It wears a child like an ill fitting garment, but Rowena can see it’s true face. Further on, an unseen werewolf howls. And miles north, too far for a mere man to wander safely, she sees a hunter kneeling to refill his water skin. The raven circles in the sky.

She is so tempted to appear to him, though he would surely seek her death. Even with his muscle and scars and brutish hunter’s garb, he is handsome in a soft way that intrigues her. She could keep him as her thrall. The binding would ruin his pretty eyes and make him mute, but it would be so pleasing to keep such a man’s heart beating in a glass jar.

She releases the raven abruptly and takes her cloak from its hook on the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated.


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